Sam is what happens to the typical high school jock when they get a bit older but don't grow up. Full of ego and testosterone, Sam lives for two things; sports and casual sex with the never ending supply of young, morally flexible, local college dollies. That is, until he meets Hope, an entirely different type of girl, and begins to realize that less isn't always more.

Sam is what happens to the typical high school jock when they get a bit older but don't grow up. Full of ego and testosterone, Sam lives for two things; sports and casual sex with the never ending supply of young, morally flexible, local college dollies. That is, until he meets Hope, an entirely different type of girl, and begins to realize that less isn't always more.

Sam is what happens to the typical high school jock when they get a bit older but don't grow up. Full of ego and testosterone, Sam lives for two things; sports and casual sex with the never ending supply of young, morally flexible, local college dollies. That is, until he meets Hope, an entirely different type of girl, and begins to realize that less isn't always more.

Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 19, 2013

Reads: 1656

Comments: 2

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Chapter Content - ver.1

Submitted: February 19, 2013

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This story contains graphic descriptions of sex between consenting adults.

Thanks to Painful Beauty and Mohawk Monica whose kind comments motivated me to get back to the keyboard.

B.B.W.

Chapter One: Bad Habits are Hard to Break.

Sam needed nicotine; no surprise there, it was four o'clock on a Thursday and the same need assailed him about this time every workday. It was also no coincidence that four o'clock was quitting
time. He was a part owner, along with two old friends, of a moderately successful cross training gym in San Luis Obispo, California. At four, the night manager came on and Sam was free to go. As
per his usual routine, Sam left the gym, got into his black, 2011 Camaro and pulled into traffic, heading for Newsbeat, the little tobacco shop/newsstand that was on his short commute back to his
apartment.

Sam pulled into the parking lot. There were two truisms about the Newsbeat parking lot; It was always stocked with shitty cars, driven by haggard looking drivers, and there would inevitably be an
employee out front having a smoke break. It irked Sam, as a small business owner, that this little shop seemed to have to keep two people on the clock all day simply so that someone could always be
smoking. Sam guessed that was one of the pitfalls of owning a tobacco shop, maybe it counted as advertising.

Sam himself always felt a twinge of guilt when he made his daily stop here. He was anything but haggard looking. Sam wasn't just a fitness professional, he had been a competitive triathlete for a
few years and, at the age of 29, he still dabbled in cycling. He was tall, about six foot one, and lean with little body fat and toned, hard muscles. His weight hovered around 175 pounds. He also
possessed many of the narcissistic tendencies that one might expect in someone who spent their life so focused on the physical. Nicotine was one of his weaknesses however and he knew what a
hypocritical image it presented for someone in his profession. He started smoking in high school, but tried to quit in college, mostly for sports. He couldn't quite manage that, but a baseball
playing friend of his introduced him to chewing tobacco and that had been his dirty little secret ever since.

Sam looked around the lot reflexively as he walked quickly to the Newsbeat entrance. He always dreaded some client driving by and seeing him while he was running this errand. He had a lie already
prepared for just such an occasion; he would say he simply stopped in at Newsbeat to get the U.K. Edition of Muscle and Fitness because it was the only place in the sleepy college town where he
could find it. Of course, he was probably worried unnecessarily and had never been called upon to use his cover story.

He walked past the leathery middle aged clerk taking her turn in the non-stop smoking break, and through the glass door out front, causing the little brass bell hanging above it to ring. Inside,
the store was a hodgepodge of magazine and newspaper racks, tobacco and smoking accessories, and glass cases filled with lighters, pocket knives and other various examples of thoughtless, last
minute, Father's Day gifts. There was a beaded curtain which Sam suspected led to a back room with bongs and the like, but he had never had occasion to peruse it.

Sam headed straight for the counter, walking blithely past the racks of magazines. Despite his cover story, he never did bother to find out if the store even carried the U.K. Edition of Muscle and
Fitness. Seeing as he was an almost daily customer, Sam was, at least visually, familiar with all the employees of the store: the leather faced lady (currently smoking on the parking lot), the old
man that looked like Wilford Brimley, the grouchy lesbian, and “hair gel guy”. Waiting at the register however, was an apparently new employee. The first impression Sam got was “big girl”. She was
tall for a woman, probably five foot nine, with long, straight, fine, chestnut hair. She was heavy; if Sam had bothered to use his trained eye, he would have guessed between 230 and 240 pounds. The
woman wasn't all butt and belly though, she was big all the way around, broad at the shoulder and deep through the chest. She did not possess the massive breasts that many women her size had, but
she was still fairly well endowed. She wore a simple, slightly threadbare maroon button down sweater over a black top with a baggy, loose fitting collar. He couldn't see below the counter to what
she was wearing on the lower portion of her body.
Narcissist that Sam was, he barely saw women like this. They were just people, there to take his money and give change, or hand him his food through the drive through window, or, most often, come
to him as another client, desperate to do something about their body image.

He walked up to her at the register and asked, “A can of Kodiak, please.”

“Straight or wintergreen?” the clerk asked. She had a sweet, hi-pitched, musical voice that caught a little of Sam's attention, causing him to focus on her face. She was looking at him expectantly.
She had the most beautiful eyes that Sam had ever seen, brilliantly bright opaline eyes that shined with good cheer.

“Uh...wintergreen.” Sam managed. The woman's eyes were so compelling that he began to take in the rest of her. As she handed him the small, plastic can, she smiled and said “four thirty five
please.”

Her smile was as brilliant as her eyes. She had perfect, white teeth and marvelously formed lips. As the smile lifted her cheeks, little dimples appeared in the corners of her mouth. Sam thought
impulsively that it was the sweetest face he had ever seen.

Sam handed her a five, still staring at her face. She opened the reg and gave him his sixty five cents back. “Have a good afternoon.” she said sweetly, making a girlish wave with her right hand.
Sam kind of wanted to stand there and look at her for a few more seconds, but said, “Thanks, I'll do my best.”. He turned and headed toward the exit. As he walked out the door, he compulsively
turned to steal one more glance at the woman's face. She was, indeed, beautiful.

In fact, Sam reckoned that “stunning” was probably a more apt description for the new clerk at Newsbeat, since the sight of her face had indeed, left him a little stunned. He shook his head to
clear it as he got back into the Camaro. “Damn,” the lifelong jock thought, “I'm not into fat chicks but...damn, that was a big, sexy, girl.”

Before Sam started the car, he opened his purchase and took a dip of the tobacco, placing it into his mouth. He turned up the stereo as it cycled through the hard rock folder on his I-pod and let
the screaming strains of Fallout boy's This Ain't a Scene, It's an Arms Race take him the rest of the way back to his apartment. The image of the clerk's angelic face was lightly burned onto his
retinas for the drive back and by the time he got home, he was feeling a little horny. He walked up the stairs to his second floor, two-bedroom apartment. It was located in a large complex on
Foothill boulevard and was mostly home to some of the town's enormous student population. There was a little pink post it note attached to his door. It read “Hey Sammy, come downstairs when U get
in. -M.”.

“Perfect timing” Sam said, smiling to himself. He opened the sliding door into his apartment and went inside without closing it. He stayed in the apartment long enough to toss his gym bag on the
couch and grab a bottle of Miller Lite from the fridge before heading back out the open door and back down the stairs, making his way to Mia's apartment.

Mia was a 22 year old student at Cal Poly, the local university. She was a business major, and on the volleyball team. She was also a horny little party girl. She worked out at Sam's gym,
preferring it to the overcrowded facilities at the student rec. center. Sam had met her before that however, last fall when she was moving in to the unit directly below his. He had just finished a
run and was walking toward the stairs, clad only in running shorts. Sam's torso was right off the cover of a fitness magazine, chisled abs and defined obliques popped in glistening relief from the
sweat that covered them. Mia, a lithe, brown eyed, bleached blonde, was wearing a loose white tank top over her black sports halter and a pair of Lycra running shorts. She stood in the walkway
alone, in front of a large sofa.

As it turned out, Mia had spent her whole day moving stuff into her place with her roommate, but the roommate had apparently rushed off without helping move the last heavy object. Sam gallantly
offered his assistance and, with some effort, the two managed to cajole the large piece of furniture into the apartment. Twenty minutes of ogling and small talk later, and Sam was getting a
satisfactory blowjob on the couch he had just moved. Since then, he had hooked up with Mia on a number of occasions, mostly for some mutual oral fun and every once in a while, the whole nine yards.
It was strictly casual, which suited Sam fine.

In point of fact, he was also banging another Cal Poly girl, or Poly Dolly as the locals called them, who lived on the opposite side of the complex. The availability of nubile, willing, and
frequently drunk college girls was the chief explanation for why Sam still lived in the complex, rather than somewhere more befitting a nearly thirty year old business owner. And the ladies
certainly didn't object to Sam's attentions. Compared to the other guys that lived in the complex, Sam was a man among boys. Handsome, successful, worldly (at least, in their limited scope of
vision), and mature. Thursday night was the start of the drinking week in San Luis Obispo, and Sam got more than a few buzzed text messages from his female neighbors after ten pm n Thursdays,
inviting him over for margaritas and a booty call.

Sam knocked on Mia's sliding door, and her her call out, “Sammy? If that's you, come on in!”

Sam opened the door and entered Mia's apartment. She was standing at the far end of the long, shoebox shaped room, a combination of kitchen and living space. She had one of her shapely legs up, her
foot in the windowsill, as she bent over her knee, stretching. She was, as she almost always seemed to be during the day, dressed for running. “What's up kid?” Sam said as he walked past the
kitchen, sipping his beer.

“Hi Sammy” Mia smiled, “I just got back from a run. I'm glad you got my note, I just left it a few minutes ago.”.

“What can I do for you sweetie?” Sam asked, with a sexy, crooked, smile.

“Well, for some reason” Mia said, taking her foot off the windowsill and moving to meet Sam in the center of the room, “my run got me all worked up today.” She placed her left hand on Sam's hip,
level with his crotch. “I was hoping you might help me...work off the rest of my energy.” she finished seductively.

Sam put his arms around her bare waist and drew her up to his chest. “You know,” he began, “you're a good neighbor. The only time the girl that lived here before you asked me to come over it was to
fix the plumbing under her kitchen sink.”

“Well come on,” Mia laughed, taking Sam's hand and leading him toward the bedroom, “You can come back here and clean my pipes.”.

Mia was indeed feeling frisky that afternoon. As soon as they got into the bedroom, she turned and pounced on him. They kissed wetly for a short time, but Mia was in a hurry to get Sam naked. She
peeled off his gym polo shirt and started kissing and licking his well developed chest. She licked and playfully bit at his nipples, causing Sam to roll his head back and groan. Soon, she was
kissing his abs, and dipping her tongue in his navel. She stopped at the waistband of Sam's shorts and stood up. She smiled seductively and walked over to the nightstand. She opened the drawer and
withdrew a box of condoms and a small bottle of lubricant. She tossed Sam the lube and said “I want you to fuck me Sam, but I'm always afraid you'll kill me with that thing, so you need to get
everything nice and wet first, OK?”. Mia shucked off her shorts and halter, and lay back on her queen sized bed.

The thing Mia was most likely referring to was Sam's dick. To put it bluntly, Sam had a porn star cock. It was over eight inches long, and more than six-and-a-half inches around at the base.
His body hair was trimmed as part of the regular manscapping duties demanded by his considerable vanity, which made his member appear all the more intimidating. Not just Mia, but in fact most of
the college girls he shagged, were never really able to take the whole thing, but Sam had a good time trying. Arrogant prick that he was, he sort of looked at it like Cinderella and the glass
slipper. One of these days it was just going to fit some girl perfectly, and Prince Charming would finally get to blow a load from so deep, his feet would be empty.

Sam slathered his half hard cock with the lube and it sprang to attention readily. He then began to massage the lubricant onto the lips of Mia's waiting pussy while flicking and pressing her tiny
clitoris with his thumb, causing her to make little humming moans between her pursed lips. After a few minutes, Mia's honey pot was providing plenty of it's own lubricant and Sam took advantage by
sliding his middle finger inside the girl, while continuing to rub her clit with his other hand. This caused Mia to buck her hips slightly, as she put her arm over her mouth, biting the meat of her
supple bicep. Sam worked one finger and then, barely, two, into the co-eds quivering mound and pumped them slowly. Her tiny pussy squeezed his fingers so tightly, they crossed inside her as though
Sam was wishing for luck. Sam added more lube and kept at it for a while as Mia continued to enjoy the attention. Finally she said, “I'm ready baby, get up here and fuck me.”.

Sam slapped latex onto his tool and moved up between her legs in the missionary position. He placed the bulbous head of his cock at her glistening, pink, opening and began to slide into her.
“Ooohh, oooh, slow baby, go slow” Mia moaned. For his part, Sam thought if he were going any slower, he wouldn't be moving at all, but he tried anyway as he introduced still more lube into the
situation. He began to stroke just the first two inches into the college girl and after a few minutes, she loosened up but Mia had never really been able to take more than half of Sam's length
before she would need him to back off a bit.

After twenty minutes, Sam was rhythmically pumping with controlled strokes, not getting in nearly as deep as he would like but still enjoying himself immensely. Mia lay on her back, with her brown
eyes closed tightly, chewing on her lower lip as she grunted with Sam's thrusts. Her right hand was down between their bodies, flying over her clit. She suddenly tensed, screaming out
“Shit...shit,shit, I'm cumming!” as little flecks of spittle flew from her mouth. Her abdominal muscles clenched hard, causing her already tight pussy to clamp down almost uncomfortably on his
dick, compelling him to pull out.

Mia panted and puffed for a moment, recovering from her orgasm. She looked up at Sam and asked “How close are you?”.

“Um, OK, but you've got to be nice with that thing OK?” Mia cautioned as she turned around on all fours, aiming her firm, athletic butt at Sam.

“You're the one that said you wanted to get fucked,” Sam said. He couldn't help but be annoyed, this was a common occurrence, not just with Mia but about three fourths of the girls he hooked up
with. Of course, they were all fit, young college girls that fed Sam's ego as much as his sexual appetite.

“I know,” Mia said, a little embarrassed, “You're just really big.”.

“Don't worry sweetie, I'll be gentle.” Sam responded, taking a hold of Mia's hips as she reached back and guided him into her.

Sam was good as his word, screwing the girl gently, still only sinking about half of his massive dick into her tight, velvety, wetness. He desperately wished he could grab her hips with both hands
and drive all the way into her, but he knew that wouldn't end well, so he kept on, trying to will himself to orgasm.

He fucked Mia doggie style for about ten minutes, when she stopped him. “Here, lay back” she said, “I'm getting sore down there, let me take care of you this way.”.

Sam took off the rubber and laid back on the bed for a consolation BJ. Mia was a decent cock sucker, certainly an enthusiastic one, but once again, Sam's girth was an issue for the girl. She sucked
the top half of Sam's tool while rapidly stroking the base. She would occasionally let the glistening, spit soaked head pop from her mouth and offer encouragements like, “Cum for me baby.”.

Sam was still having some trouble getting over the hump, so to speak, and closed his eyes, trying to think of the sexiest thing he could imagine. He was surprised when his mind presented him the
image of the big, sexy, new clerk at the smoke shop. As soon as he visualized that is was her soft, wet, beautiful mouth engulfing the head of his swollen cock, he came, hard.

Mia pulled her mouth off of his dick as he came and continued to stroke the shaft rapidly. Sam's pelvis pumped into her fist as he shot a rope of semen so hard it landed on the pillow beside his
head, splattering a tiny bit under his left eye. The girl laughed with delight as Sam grunted through his orgasm.

Mia ran to the bathroom to fetch a towel as Sam laid back on her bed. “Really?” he silently chided himself, “the fat girl?”. As soon as he thought it though, he pictured her again, and as he
remembered her captivating smile, and damned if his dick didn't start to stir.

Mia came back with the towel and tossed it to Sam as she hopped up next to him on the bed. “How 'bout another round, sexy?” Sam asked, not entirely thinking of Mia.

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Comments

Anonymous

Comment | 9 words

Fri, February 22nd, 2013 2:57am

Please post chapter 5 soon I am loving this book :)

AuthorReply

Comment | 48 words

Fri, February 22nd, 2013 7:05am

I have to work both day and night today but I think I know where the story is going to go in ch 5. It should be up Saturday sometime. Thank you so much for your comment, it means a lot to me for someone to take the time!

Anonymous

Comment | 68 words

Thu, April 25th, 2013 8:47am

I'm only about...hmm... TWO MONTHS LATE!!! hahaha
I'm sorry for not checking this out sooner! I have no idea where the time went, I suppose I could chalk it up to school and work plus the new changes that Booksie made to the site. But anyway, thank you for mentioning me in the intro; I'm honored :). So far I'm very intrigued, I chuckled throughout at Sam's comments.